Guardian's Mistake
by Green Hat
Summary: All make mistakes, but for Guardians the cost is great. Rage brings Chaos, when it gains Control... Rating to be safe


Disclaimer: I don't own Sonic, Knuckles or the Master Emerald bla bla bla... Its official, I still don't want Knuckles' job.

Guardian's Mistake 

"_The strongest Echidna are the most cursed. With our power comes responsibility, the stronger we are the further we can err from the path..."_

His third round match was coming to a close and he'd won. His black adversary, Coal was down and his ally in the team match the pale blue Cobalt had backed away far enough to be retired. Knuckles couldn't deny it, he had enjoyed finally showing Coal who was boss in the ring; what's more he'd done it alone. Raven had long ceased to help him.

But then as his rage dissipated he noticed something was wrong. The watching Trainees weren't cheering, an ominous silence hung in the air like smoke. The faces lined up beside the ring were full of shock and horror. At that moment 2 of the qualified Guardians came up and took hold of each of Knuckles' arms. He couldn't struggle. As he stared down on Coal laid sprawled and bloody on the floor a feeling of nausea washed over him like a cold tide. He willed him to move, just a little.

Master Almer got in his view, Knuckles strained to look over his shoulder as he pulled the gloves off his hands. His attention was only drawn to what he was doing as his hands were bound tightly with ropes.

"Come with us" Almer said dryly.

Coal still hadn't moved. As he was pulled away watched by almost every Trainee in the School he could only ask himself one thing:

"_Dear stars, what have I done?" _

It was dawn. Even so the gathered Trainees were not up any earlier than normal.

"Trainee Knuckles" Master Ribern announced to the crowd. Knuckles' whole body was numb, his mind still in a state of shock, even the next day. "You stand before us guilty of murder" somehow his saying the word made it hurt all the more, Knuckles hadn't thought that was be possible. "And grievous bodily harm resulting in the permanent maiming of a fellow Trainee, consequentially he may never graduate. Therefore you must be punished"

Knuckles whole body trembled filled with an emotion guilt and regret did nothing to describe. Punishment wasn't what he deserved, a slow painful death and decent into the Black Pit was what he deserved.

"Trainees, you know the rules of the Marchac"

Knuckles was pulled forward. As he listened to Ribern speak his eyes surveyed the crude rectangular frame, hastily constructed that stood waiting for him. The two uprights supported a crossbar just above the height of his hands if he were to hold them above his head.

"Each Trainee is allowed only one touch. They cannot be bought from those who do not wish to use them"

Knuckles; guards escorted him up to the Marchac frame. They pulled his hands above him and tied them to the corners of the crossbeams. He was left hanging with just his toes and the balls of his feet lightly touching the ground.

"Touches must be taken bare, no gloves or other implements are to be used. No exceptions"

The guards moved away and Knuckles felt utterly alone,

"You are to be split across the day. Any touches not used by dust will be void." Ribern sighed. Knuckles found the courage to look up at him. Was their sadness in that sigh? Regret, or just... disappointment? All he wanted was to make people proud of him.

"You may begin"

Knuckles watched Ribern turn, and walk away as the firsts of his fellow Trainees stepped up to administer his punishment.

What they were doing would be bearable, but every time they struck him he was sent swinging. More than anything he was aware of a searing pain in his shoulders and across his back between his shoulder blades.

The pain and an incredible sense of thirst let him slide in and out of consciousness. In many ways that was worse. The thirst always haunted the darkness, filling it with flames, heat and parched deserts. Every time someone struck him in a particularly tender place he was brought reeling back into the horrible real world he would have done anything to escape from. Knuckles preferred the flames.

Not everyone struck him, some just spat on him. Anything more obscene than that was banned, more for the person administering it than the one who would receive it.

Suddenly he was aware of something wet dribbling into his mouth. He didn't care what it was, at that moment anything was better than the thirst, he swallowed as quickly as his swollen lips would allow. He managed to open his eyes to see familiar golden eyes looking into his. Coral moved her hands around to the back of his head from his mouth, never for a moment loosing contact with his skin.

"They wouldn't let me bring a cup" She told him softly "I can't give you more, they say that would make you sick" She gently stroked the back of his head "My friends... Our friends are spread out through the group. We'll all do what we can-"

"Hey, one touch!" The guard shouted

"And I have yet to take my hands from him" Coral retorted "Have courage Knux, it'll be over soon"

With that Coral moved away, rubbing her eyes, smearing her face with blood.

Knuckles came to realise how many of the Trainees hated him. They took great pleasure in administering his punishment. But he also came to realise how many loved him too. Coral and her friends couldn't come often enough. The heat of the day was worst, even the cupped hands of the Echidna could do nothing to ease his thirst.

"I wasn't sure if I could come Knuckles, I was so angry with you." He recognised the voice of his best friend Custos "But here I am. I honestly don't believe you did it on purpose, but I have to hear you say it, just once and I'll believe you"

Knuckles managed to raise his head to look at him. When he tried to speak all that came out was a kind of whimpering groan, like air escaping from a balloon.

"Tell me it was a mistake"

Knuckles licked his dry tongue around his mouth and managed to put some of the moisture back.

"It wass and ax-ident..." He wheezed, in barely more than a whisper.

Sonar smiled "What can I do for you old friend? Anything"

"Lift me up" Knuckles groaned

For a moment Custos thought he was speaking figuratively. The as he looked up at the where the ropes were biting into Knuckles wrists he understood. Trying to find a place on his body that wasn't bruised or bleeding Custos lifted him up, taking the weight off his arms and shoulders. The relief from the pain brought tears to Knuckles eyes. Carefully Custos arranged his body so that it supported Knuckles, freeing his hands. These he moved around to his back and gently rubbed at the muscles between his shoulder blades. Tears were by now streaming down Knuckles' face, such was the relief to have the pain in his back lessened just for a brief moment.

All too soon the guard approached.

"You've had more than long enough"

"Sorry Knux, I have to go. There's about an hour left till dusk. There's only a few left to come, some of the big ones, they plan to come right near the end, some of us have a plan to postpone them" He winked.

Custos put him down as gently as he could, nevertheless Knuckles cried out in despair as the weight was returned to his shoulders. The hour till dusk may as well be an eternity.

When Moonstone brought him a drink she spilt most of it down his front, doing nothing but to add to his despair. Along with that she took her hands away and was hastily hurried off by the guards. As she moved she called to him.

"On'y a few minits Knux"

An orange glow pushed through his closed eyes, stirring him from a vivid dream world filled with fire, heat and a single pair of ruby eyes glaring at him from the darkness. The sun was setting. Whatever Custos and his friends had done it had worked. The air was cooler now, but far from cold. Knuckles was aware of flies buzzing around him and settling on his limbs. His mouth tasted of metal and sourly of bile. His nose was full of the stench of his own sweat and blood. Nevertheless as he watched the sinking sun paint the sky rusty red his spirit lifted.

The next thing he was aware of was voices around him, and the sound of a knife cutting through rope. When his hands came free someone caught him and lowered him to the ground. His arms didn't seem to want to lower form their position, they seemed to be locked in place.

Next thing he was lifted onto a piece of cloth bound between two logs. Custos stood at his head, Moonstone and Coral at either side. They lifted the stretcher between them. Fiery pain lanced through Knuckles focused at a point right in the centre of his back. He heard himself cry out, as his world snapped to black.

Behind the retreating stretcher the rest of Knuckles friends laid waste to the Marchac frame.

Wherever he was it was too hot. He could still smell the faint scent of blood and sweat but it was mostly covered by a sterile medicinal smell that clung to his nostrils and stung at his throat. There were voices around them but he didn't hear them, he was floating on a comforting bubble of a painless half dream and was afraid that if he listened too hard the bubble would burst and he would come tumbling back. A gust of wind momentarily cooled him, with it came the faint scent of smoke, with that Knuckles drifted back to sleep again filled with fire smoke and glowing red eyes.

Outside all splintered remains of the Marchac frame were burning on a giant bonfire.


End file.
